


Meet Cute

by ashtraythief



Series: Underneath 'verse [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Crimes & Criminals, Don't copy to another site, Drug Dealing, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Mentions of past child abuse, POV Outsider, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Assault, Sort Of, Underage Drinking, brief mentions of Chad/OFC, even briefer mentions of Jared/OMC, mentions of past incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2020-12-16 08:56:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21033638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtraythief/pseuds/ashtraythief
Summary: How Jared met his crew at Stanford. Tags vary by chapter.Chapter 1: How Jared met Chad.Chapter 2: How Jared met Gen.Chapter 3: How Jared met Mike.





	1. Chad

**Author's Note:**

> For the underneath prompt meme, maalbor said: I want to know more about jared and chad’s friendship. For once I thought I should start at the beginning.
> 
> It spiralled into Jared meeting more of his crew. No idea how many more I'll manage to write.
> 
> Many thanks to ilikaicalie and iwinsoiwin for betaing!

Chad was just getting into a really good daydream—Pamela Anderson and Christina Aguilera, some nice inter-generational action—when a police officer banged against the bars and opened the door.

“You’re free to go.”

Chad sat up on the cot. “What?”

“I said, you’re free to go. Bail’s been paid.”

Slowly, Chad stood. Who in the hell would post bail for him?

He followed the officer upstairs, collected his things, and walked outside.

The tall kid with the strange eyes was leaning against the wall. Chad had seen him at the last few parties. Jared. Chad never forgot a name.

Warily, Chad approached him. He’d met Jared a week ago when Chad had been selling some of the good stuff at a Palo Alto house party. Those Stanford kids had a lot of money and Chad was pretty enough to get invited by the girls and then sell to them and their buddies. But this kid, he hadn’t wanted drugs.

After Chad had run out of product and gotten himself a beer, Jared had sat down with him and drew him into a conversation. Chad didn’t even remember all of it, because it had been the most mundane shit: music, movies, hole-in-the-wall pizza places, and the merits of private jacuzzis. The kid had smiled and said all the right things, but there had been something lurking in the corners of his eyes, something dark and calculating.

Chad knew that look and it made him wary. This kid, this Jared, he might blend in with the other college kids, all pretty and clean, and charming in that well-mannered, cute-baby-faced way, but that wasn’t all he was, not by far. So Chad had been careful, even when he liked the kid, liked his quiet opinions, his quick but well-thought-out answers, and how cunning he was in every calculated movement. Chad was morbidly curious.

At the end of the night, Jared had dragged him over to his roommate, who was even taller, and had said, “Aldis, Chad, Chad, Aldis. Chad here is going to be our new friend.”

Aldis had accepted it without question, had shaken Chad’s hand with a firm grip and said, “Nice to meet you, man.”

Then yesterday, another party. Jared had been there again, had watched him work for a while and then actually bought a bag of pot. He smelled it and asked if Chad sold better stuff, too.

Chad was pretty sure it was a test. He considered the kid’s broad shoulders and huge hands, the way his eyes were hard and focused, the way he wasn’t afraid. Not born out of arrogance, but solid confidence gained from experience.

Chad had given him the good stuff then, and Jared sniffed the pot and licked the coke, smiling at Chad appreciatively. “That’s some good shit.”

Chad had grinned. “It’s all about the connections.”

“I bet it is,” Jared had said and then left Chad to sell the rest of his product.

They’d met in the kitchen later, had a beer until Chad was distracted by a girl in a very short denim skirt and her cute smile.

“She has a friend,” Chad had told Jared.

Jared had shaken his head, eyes focused on someone across the room. “I already have a date for later.”

The only person where Jared was looking was a cute blond guy.

When Chad looked back at Jared, his eyebrows were raised in challenge. Well, Chad could see how he might be apprehensive, but this was California.

Chad slapped him on the shoulder. “Go get him, tiger.” Then he went in pursuit of his own entertainment.

The police raided the party when Chad was balls-deep in the girl’s pussy, which was the only reason they were able to arrest him.

Resigned to his fate to probably serving a stretch in prison for the whole drug thing, he did not expect to be bailed out by the kid who’d struck up a strange friendship with him.

“Jared, isn’t it?” Chad said, pointing at him, making sure this wasn’t a hallucination fueled by sleep deprivation.

The kid nodded. “Padalecki,” he said, by way of introduction.

Chad buried his hands in his pockets. “I guess I owe you.”

Jared grinned, popping some ridiculously adorable dimples. If Chad were an eighty-year-old grandma, he’d be all over that. “I guess you do.”

“What do you want?”

Jared shrugged. “Breakfast?”

Chad narrowed his eyes.

Jared smiled sheepishly. “And an introduction to your suppliers.”

Chad’s mouth fell open.

“It’s good stuff,” Jared said. “Pretty unique around here. It’s an opportunity. And I don’t think you guys are making the most of it.”

“And you can?” Chad asked skeptically.

Jared raised his shoulders. “I have some experience. And friends with deep pockets.”

“Let’s start with breakfast,” Chad said. “Get to know each other a little.” When the kid smirked, Chad realized that it could be taken in a different way. “On a _work_ basis. No offense, but you’re not really my type, what with you having a dick and all.”

“Classy,” Jared said dryly. “Don’t worry, I usually look for guys who are a little more… refined.”

For a moment, Chad was stumped. “How, exactly, are you insulting me here?”

Jared smiled. “Not at all. I just prefer guys with a little less of an edge, and a little less street experience that’ll make it a little less likely for them to stab me in the back when I throw them out in the morning.”

Chad tilted his head back and considered. This kid was good at reading people then.

“So. Breakfast?” Jared raised an eyebrow, eyes calculating again. When he wasn’t smiling, he really wasn’t a kid at all.

Chad had done a lot of stupid, reckless, and downright suicidal things in his life. Taking Jared Padalecki up on his breakfast offer didn’t feel like either of them. It just felt… easy. Chad wasn’t sure where this was going, but he had a feeling he was in for one hell of a ride.


	2. Genevieve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one contains most of the dark warnings. Panic attack and discussions of past abuse.

“C’mon baby. Just a little bit before we go back inside?” Brandon’s voice was wheedling.

Gen rolled her eyes. “I’m not blowing you in the bushes during your frat party, Brandon. You can wait until later.”

“You’re such a stuck-up bitch sometimes,” Brandon said.

Gen thought that Brandon really wasn’t worth this kind of hassle. Yes, he was the son of friends of her parents, so they’d love it if Gen dated him, but he was just a straight-up asshole. And he popped his collars, for fuck’s sake. Time to dump him.

“Yeah, Brandon, this isn’t going to work.”

“What?” He stared at her incredulously.

“You can’t honestly expect me to put up with your bullshit.”

Brandon’s face contorted in drunk fury and he pulled himself up to his full height towering over Gen. But Gen had always been short, and drunk frat boys didn’t intimidate her on principle.

“You can’t just dump me, you ungrateful bitch.”

“I think she just did,” an amused voice said from the shadows.

Gen whirled around to see two guys emerging from the trees. The taller one was doing up his belt.

“Mind your own fucking business,” Brandon hissed.

“Oh, I was trying to. But your drunk jabbering kinda ruined the mood.” The guy had long, shiny hair, obviously just growing out a bowl cut, but it kinda worked for him. He was cute, with fox tilted eyes, a slight upward tip of his nose, and wide, pink lips. Plus the wide shoulders and the long legs, and oh yeah, that was a winner right there. His friend was also pretty good looking, but nowhere near as charismatic. When Gen noticed the other guy’s flushed cheeks, his tousled hair, and his red lips, Gen put two and two together. So, the tall drink of water there was not batting for her team. Too bad.

Brandon apparently also caught up with it.

“I know we’re in the rainbow state, but please don’t bring your disgusting habits to my party.”

“Jared, let’s go,” the shorter guy said.

The tall guy, Jared, just shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“You should listen to your little friend here,” Brandon said.

When Jared crossed his arms in front of his chest and raised a cocky eyebrow, his friend just shook his head. “Asshole,” he muttered in Brandon’s direction and left.

Jared just pinned Brandon with a cold look. “You should watch your mouth.”

“Don’t bother,” Gen said. “Brandon’s an asshole when he’s in a good mood. And he seems to take getting dumped hard.”

“Dumped?” Brandon repeated.

“He’s also not the sharpest tool in the shed,” Gen told Jared who laughed.

Brandon looked between them, unable to decide who to engage with. In the end, he focused on Jared. Apparently, even when drunk Brandon didn’t want to hit a girl.

It didn’t help him. Brandon yelled angrily and charged at Jared. For a guy who’d just gotten his blowjob interrupted, Jared was incredibly focused. He sidestepped Brandon, punched him in the kidney, then gripped his shirt and threw him to the ground.

When Brandon got up, Jared fixed him with a hard look. “Don’t.”

There was something cold and calculating in Jared’s eyes, and even Brandon understood the danger he was in.

He shot Gen an angry look. “Better this way.” His voice was derisive, dismissive. “You think you’re gonna play with the big boys, play with the big money, but you’re only good for your cocksucking mouth.” He turned around and stumbled away.

_Your cocksucking mouth._

The world narrowed, everything went dark and Gen couldn’t breathe.

_Can’t be blamed when you have such a cocksucking mouth, can I?_

Everything was spinning, and she stumbled to the ground. It was dark and she could smell the old wood.

_Such a beautiful cocksucking mouth. No one could resist that, can’t be blamed when you have such a cocksucking mouth, can I?_

Gen started hyperventilating, wasn’t getting enough oxygen and she couldn’t—she couldn’t— she—

“Breathe. Come on, breathe.”

Strong but gentle hands gripped her shoulders, grounded her.

She blinked, the world coming back into focus. The words echoed in her ears, but now she could see Jared’s face, his eyes narrowed in question and worry.

“I’m okay.” She was still gasping for breath, but she needed—she had to—“I’m okay.”

“Sure you are,” Jared said and helped her up.

Gen stumbled over to the bench, sat down. Jared sat down next to her but didn’t push.

Gen waited for her heart to calm down. Focused on the night air, heavy with the scent of the flowers, full of rustling leaves and the crickets’ chirping.

“Sorry about that,” Gen said finally. “You can go. I don’t need you.”

Jared just leaned back, stretched out his legs in front of him.

Gen sighed. “This hasn’t happened in years.”

“Was it the words?” Jared asked.

“Cocksucking?” Gen said derisively. “No. Not really, I mean. It was. Something in his tone. I don’t know.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “I’m fine though. Seriously. This is not the first time it happened, and it won’t be the last. I can deal.”

Jared nodded. “Was he punished?”

Gen turned to him. She hadn’t told a lot of people. Her therapist. Her last serious boyfriend. Her freshman roommate. No one had asked her this. Hadn’t asked it like this. They’d asked whether she told anyone, whether she went to the police. But not this, not whether he was _punished_.

She shook her head.

“Why not?” Jared asked.

“You know that most sexual assaults go unreported, right?” Gen bit out.

“Sure,” Jared said easily. “But you don’t seem like someone who has a problem standing up to a guy.”

Gen snorted. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. That has nothing to do with it. And he wasn’t just a guy. He—” She cut herself off. She couldn’t tell. Especially not a stranger. “Look, thanks for whatever, but you don’t know shit about me, or what I went through, so how about you stow the therapy crap.”

For a moment it was quiet.

Then he said, “My mom was murdered when I was eleven.”

He said it casually. Gen turned to him in shock. His face was tense, the twitch of the muscles in his jaw belying his calm.

He gave her a self-deprecating smile. “It fucked me up, for a long time. And the police, they didn’t go looking for the fucker.”

Gen nodded. “Yeah, that will fuck you up.”

Jared nodded. He held out one of his big hands to her. “Jared Padalecki.”

She took it, her small hand disappearing in his. “Genevieve Cortese.”

His brows shot up. “Not of the New York Corteses?”

She shrugged.

“You’re about as far away from home as you can be,” he said slowly.

She jutted her chin forward. “So?”

He tilted his head. “I know something about that, about leaving your family behind.”

“I don’t think you do,” she bit out. “Not like that.”

He didn't reply and when she looked up at him, his eyes were searching her face, calm, analytical. And for one horrifying moment, Gen thought he _knew_. But he couldn’t. There was no way. No one… and it wasn’t the first suspicion anyone had ever had, he couldn’t—And yet, when Jared looked at her, she thought for a moment, he was looking straight into her soul. Saw the torn darkness there.

Then he rubbed his neck, gave her a sheepish, one-dimpled smile. Looked like a cute freshman. Nice. Harmless. “No, I guess, not like that.” His smile vanished. “But I know something about what it’s like to have a darkness inside of you.”

“So?” She meant it to be challenging, but it came out a little shaky.

“We should hang out,” Jared said, and the gear switching gave her whiplash.

“Why?”

He looked at her shoes, at her handbag. All expensive designer items.

“You have money,” he said. “And I don’t think you want to depend on your parents for more.”

“Excuse me?”

He raised his left shoulder. “I’m just saying. I have a really good investment opportunity, but I’m lacking a bit in the fund’s department.”

She stared at him, disbelieving. “What, exactly, are you proposing here?”

“Have lunch with me,” he said. “No strings. Just a sales pitch and if you don’t like it, no harm done.”

Gen chewed on her bottom lip. She was sure that whatever this guy was proposing wouldn’t be legal. But he seemed confident. In a way that reminded her of the men her father did business with. Dark, self-assured, experienced.

And he wasn’t wrong. The day she didn’t have to call her parents for money couldn’t come fast enough.

“Lunch,” she said.

Jared gave her a brilliant smile. “Lunch.”

They had lunch, and Gen loaned him the money. She got it back with a fifty percent bonus two weeks later. She lent him money two more times, then he had enough to conduct business on his own. But the problem with so much money was that unless you wanted to stash a bunch of cash somewhere, you needed a way to clean that money.

Gen was majoring in finance and she’d watched her father do business long enough. She’d been skimming from her parents for years, so she could cut the cord early. She’d seduced her father’s last financial advisor to learn how to open a bank account in the Caymans, for fuck’s sake.

When she told Jared what she could do for him and his business, he was pleased, but not surprised.

“Work for me,” he said. “I need someone to help me with the money.”

She nodded.

“What do you want?”

“Fifteen percent,” Gen said. “And him.” She slid a piece of paper over to him.

He read the name.

“I know some of the people you hang out with can make it look like an accident,” Gen said. She was pretty sure both Chad and Mike had killed. She thought maybe it should scare her, disgust her, but it didn’t. There was something missing inside of her, she thought, something that was now dark and torn. Therapy had only helped so much. It was time she tried something new.

Jared’s face was pale when he looked at her, his jaw clenched. The muscle in his cheek twitched. He was furious.

“Did your parents know?” he asked, his voice strained.

“They didn’t want to know,” Gen said bitterly. “They looked away for as long as they could. Until it was unmissable. Then they took me to a doctor upstate and told him to stay away.”

Jared’s nostrils flared. It made something warm in her chest bloom, that he was this angry on her behalf.

“I’ll have him taken care of as soon as possible. And if you want them to pay too, that’s not a problem.”

He didn’t have to say who he meant by them. Gen thought she should balk at the thought of her parents dead, but she couldn’t. Not when her father’s reaction had been to ask his brother why he just couldn’t pay for a prostitute, _for God’s sake, Henry_. Not when her mother had given her a cold look and told her that this was what happened when she wore all those ripped jeans and dark makeup. It gave men ideas. If she'd worn the proper dresses, the pearls her mother had laid out for her, nothing of this sort would have happened. The doctor was the only one who’d been kind, but her parents paid him to get rid of her pregnancy, not to be a therapist.

“We should probably wait a while. So it’s not too suspicious.” Her voice came out wooden and she couldn't look at Jared. She only saw their faces, exasperated and disapproving.

The pressure of Jared’s hand on hers made her snap out of it.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Whatever you need.”

“Thank you.”

He pulled her into a hug and for the first time in a long time, Gen let go. She let Jared take her weight, and he held her safe in his arms. Just for a moment. Then she pulled back, straightened out her skirt and her top.

“I’ll talk to Chad,” Jared said. “We’ll make it happen.”

“Thank you.” Gen sat down. Couldn’t think about this anymore. She reached for her handbag, pulled out a notebook. “Now. Let’s talk business.”

“Let’s.”


	3. Mike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for indulging me in writing these little background snippets!  


Working as a bouncer for a strip club was probably the worst job Mike had ever had. And he’d had a lot of crappy jobs. But being a bouncer was just so fucking cliché.

But he liked most of the girls, and unlike the asshole who he sometimes shared his shift with, he’d never take advantage of them. The customers he threw out on a regular basis were the worst scum though. They thought every dancer was a whore and had a really hard time understanding boundaries. Just as well, Mike got regular exercise. And he’d long stopped pretending that the sound of a crunching bone didn’t give him a deep sense of satisfaction. If he were only getting a regular bouncer’s salary Mike wouldn’t have stuck around. But Dimitri Vantis, the owner, also ran drugs out of the back office and needed extra security.

Especially since Dimitri had gotten new competition in Palo Alto’s drug scene. Mike wasn’t sure who it was. Chad’s name was floating around, but Chad was small time. He might be smart and squirrely, but he was no mastermind. There had to be someone behind him. Not that anyone ever asked Mike, they all thought he was just the dumb muscle. Considering Mike worked as a bouncer at a strip club, they were probably not wrong.

Tonight was a slow night, so Mike didn’t have any qualms about dragging out his break in the alley behind the building. He had tried to quit smoking, but he was either too mad or too bored.

“Rosey. Fancy seeing you here.”

Speak of the devil.

Chad emerged from the shadows, flanked by two beefy guys. All show, no skill.

“Murray.”

They’d shared a foster home about a decade ago when Mike was new in the system, full of anger and disbelief, and Chad was already an old hat, warier and more shifty than most adults. They’d bonded out of necessity.

“Got some training,” Chad told Mike when he’d built a homemade chemical bomb to piss off their foster parents.

“Got some training too,” Mike said when he used a kickboxing move to get Chad out of the beating with the belt when their foster dad caught him.

They’d crossed paths once or twice since. Sacramento, San Francisco, they both bounced around in northern California. And now, they’d both ended up in Palo Alto.

“Small world,” Mike said. “And it’s Mike now.”

Chad tilted his head. “Nah. You’re always gonna be Rosey. Rosey-cheeked and thorny. “ Chad grinned unapologetically. God, Mike had forgotten what an annoying little shit he was. Shifty and smart, yes, criminal mastermind probably not. Not enough drive.

“What brings you here, Murray?”

“Chat with your boss,” Chad said. “We have a disagreement.”

“You mean your boss and my boss.”

Chad raised his eyebrows and spread his arms. “Hey, I’m my own boss these days.”

Mike snorted. “Sure.”

But he walked Chad inside to the back office anyway.

The negotiations went predictably bad. Chad refused to give up ground or trade secrets, refused to tell Dimitri how he could underbid his prices. It drove Dimitri nuts that half of his customers were buying from Chad these days and Dimitri seemed convinced that Chad was strong-arming his suppliers.

Chad just smiled. “I’m just more likable. You should try smiling every once in a while, who knows what’ll happen.”

“I will kill you,” Dimitri said coldly.

Chad was entirely unimpressed. “Hey, this is the wonderful free capitalist country we live in. It’s a free market. Best price and best product win.”

Dimitri pulled a gun on Chad. “Fuck off. Last warning.”

Chad left, but not before shooting Mike a look. It made Mike uneasy, but he wasn’t quite sure why.

The next weekend, two guys got really drunk and started a fight inside. Mike had to intervene. Severely.

He threw them out the back. They skedaddled quickly enough, but when Mike turned back to the employees only back door, someone in the shadows clapped.

Slowly, Mike turned around.

“Impressive,” a guy said from the dark. “You got some real training.”

Mike cocked his head, squared his shoulders. “What’s it to you?”

“I heard about your talents,” the guy said, slowly coming closer. He was tall, easily over six feet, and broad-shouldered, but when he stepped into the light, he revealed a dimpled baby face and a boy band bowl cut. “And how underused they are.”

Ah. Mike was meeting Chad’s mysterious boss.

“Again, what do you care?”

The guy spread his arms, almost welcoming. “How about you work for me instead of this shitty gig?”

Mike scoffed. “Look, I don’t know what you and Chad think you’re going to pull here, but you’re not winning against Dimitri. Dimitri is so deep in this neighborhood, like a fucking cancer.”

The guy grinned. ”Is he though?”

Mike heard the squealing of tires from the front of the alley. Car doors slammed, official-sounding voices yelled orders.

“In or out?” the guy asked.

Behind him were the noises of pandemonium. The club didn’t have all the right permits, but Dimitri greased enough palms that it wasn’t usually a problem. Except now two of the strippers came running out the back door, one still in costume, the other wrapped in a long coat.

“Mike,” one of them shouted. Sarah. He liked Sarah. “Get the fuck out of here, the cops are raiding the place.”

The guy stepped up to him, even younger and even taller up close. Handed him a card.

“My offer expires in two days.”

Then he turned around and disappeared into the shadows.

Huh. With one last look at the club, Mike jogged off. He wasn’t going down with Dimitri’s ship. He wasn’t getting paid enough for that shit.

It was all over the news the next day. The club was closed. They’d arrested the manager. No word about Dimitri. The slimy fucker had probably gotten away.

Mike was proven right a day later when he got a text from Dimitri with the new office location. He texted back that he’d be there. Then he looked at the card Chad’s boss had given him. A dive bar on the outskirts of campus.

It never hurt to check out the competition.

Chad’s boss was shooting pool with a bunch of frat boys. When he saw Mike coming, he waved him towards the back. Behind a door that said ‘private’ was another pool table. Chad was playing with a tall, black guy. The two muscle guys Chad had brought with him were here and a couple of girls Chad was flirting with.

Chad grinned at him, put down his pool queue. “Excuse me, ladies.”

They rolled their eyes and turned away without shedding a tear. Mike grinned.

Chad’s boss invited him to sit at a table in the corner.

“Do I get a name?” Mike asked when he sat down.

Chad joined them, putting down three beers.

“Jared Padalecki.” Jared smiled.

The name meant nothing to Mike.

“And you’re Mike Rosenbaum.”

Mike nodded.

“Chad says you’re good.”

“There are a lot of good guys.”

Jared nodded. “But I need someone who can tell me where we can find Dimitri.”

“Well, that depends how much you're paying.”

“The going rate,” Jared said “And if everything works out, I’m gonna need someone like you.”

“An enforcer?”

Jared tilted his head. “Yes and no.”

Mike’s eyebrows shot up.

“I don’t need muscle, there’s enough in this town.” Jared waved at the other guys. “I need someone who can run a crew. Someone who can punch _and_ think. Someone who can lead and keep a bunch of guys under control. And who can instill fear into the enemy.”

“Fear into the enemy? What is this, the godfather?”

Jared smiled. “I think we should start small. But I like big thinkers.”

Mike’s mouth fell open. Chad laughed.

“Who _are _you?”

Jared shrugged, popped a dimpled smile. “Just a college kid, looking to make a few extra bucks.”

“Bullshit.”

Jared laughed. “I like you, Mike.”

Helplessly, Mike looked at Chad.

Chad nodded, once, face unusually serious. “Now we’re square,” he said, and Mike knew he meant the beating he’d saved him from all those years ago.

Mike drew a deep breath. Well. If this didn’t work out he could always go down to L.A. And at least he wouldn’t have to play bouncer anymore.

Mike stayed at a rundown apartment with a bunch of the other guys. They spent a lot of their time watching TV and drinking beer. Mike went running and used the gym equipment in the back. He made one of the guys spot for him and then he roped another one into a sparring session. He wiped the floor with him and offered some advice. Eventually, the other guys got curious. Mike had gotten a pretty decent education in fighting when his parents had still been alive and even though he’d bounced around foster homes, he’d always managed to join some kind of boxing, wrestling, or martial arts club. He knew a little bit of everything, enough to make him dangerous.

And it was actually fun to teach the other guys. There was a lot of good-natured complaining, but there was also a lot less television watching going on.

They went after Dimitri two weeks later. Chad’s bomb blew the door off and then it was easy. Jared confiscated the entire stash and then he asked for the money. Dimitri refused, would never give it up.

Jared had Mike tie him down. Mike wasn’t optimistic. Dimitri was a stubborn son of a bitch, had lost a finger to the triad. He’d never squeal. But Jared just sat down on his desk and took Dimitri’s wallet, pulled out the worn picture of a little boy stashed away behind a bunch of old bills.

“He’s fifteen now,” Jared said. “Lives with his mom in Oklahoma. Tulsa. Goes to Hill Valley High. Go Bobcats.”

Dimitri paled. “You wouldn’t.”

Jared pulled out his phone. Chad handed him a folded piece of paper. Slowly, Jared dialed, the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

“What are you doing?” Dimitri asked, but Jared shushed him.

Someone answered his call then, a faint female voice coming from the speakers.

“Yes, hello,” Jared said. “Mrs. Keller?”

Dimitri shot forward in his bonds. Mike held him tight and pushed a gag against his mouth.

“I’m with your ex-husband. He needs to talk to you.” Jared pressed the speaker button on the phone.

“Is he dying?” Mrs. Keller’s voice came through the phone.

Jared’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s a toss-up right now.”

“Then don’t call me until he’s dead and I get to arrange his fucking funeral,” she spat out and hung up.

“Ouch,” Chad said with a grimace.

“Harsh,” Jared commented. He turned to Dimitri. “But you still love your boy. Have I made myself clear?” Jared’s jaw was clenched hard and his usually warm eyes were glinting dangerously. His entire expression was cold, devoid of any kind of sympathy. It left to doubt that he would kill a fifteen-year-old boy to make a point. Mike never wanted Jared to look at him like that because this face only meant submission or death.

In Mike’s arms, Dimitri slumped and nodded.

Jared smiled sharply, popping dimples in both cheeks. “Awesome. Then how about you lead us to the money?”

And Dimitri did.

“Just so we’re clear, and you don’t get any ideas,” Jared said, voice low and menacing. “I’m going to hold on to this phone number. And because you were such a shitty business partner, Mike is going to have a word with you. To show my future business partners what happens if someone doesn’t play ball.” Jared pointedly looked at Dimitri’s men, lined up against the walls.

And then Mike got to show Dimitri exactly what he thought about his business practices. It felt good, cathartic. And afterward, when he was still shaking and his fists were bloody, instead of leaving him out in the cold, Jared invited him out for beers. And Mike sat at the table. With Jared and Chad and the guy he learned was Aldis, the computer whiz. Who’d hacked the county computer to sic the police on Dimitri’s club.

And then Jared introduced Mike to the muscle and told them they’d report to Mike from now on and asked if anyone had a problem with that. Mike still had blood under his fingernails. No one had a problem with him.

“This was fun,” Chad said later.

Jared shot him a dark look. “You almost blew us all to smithereens.”

Chad made a contrite face. “Yeah, but to be fair, I told you my explosive skills are limited to fertilizer and chemical bombs and that’s some unstable shit. For the good C4 stuff you need a pro.”

“Maybe we can recruit someone from the chemistry department,” Aldis said.

“Or,” Chad started.

“No,” Jared said.

“You’ve never even met him.”

“The stories are enough.”

“Who are we talking about?” With Dimitri, Mike never would’ve dared to ask, but here, he dared. Not that he was a hundred percent sure how it was going to go.

But Jared didn’t hesitate to answer his question. “Misha Collins. You heard of him?”

Mike nodded. “I was in L.A. a few years ago. You can’t really avoid the stories.”

“Which is _exactly_ why we want him. We’re young, new.” Chad made a face. “And yeah, Misha’s not much older, but he has a rep.”

“Yeah, a crazy one,” Jared said, “I don’t need that shit.”

“I disagree,” Chad said.

Mike held his breath. Dimitri would have never allowed a challenge to his authority like this. But he also wasn’t around anymore.

Aldis just crossed his arms in front of his chest.

And Jared looked at Mike. “What do you think?”

Mike looked between Chad and Jared. He knew he should go with the boss, appease him and agree with him. But Chad wasn’t wrong. Still, Mike hesitated.

“I offered you this job because I thought you had a spine,” Jared said, not harshly. More a statement of fact. Almost disappointed. Worse than anything.

Mike drew a deep breath. “Chad’s right. You don’t have a rep. And Chad’s is sketchy at best.”

“Hey!” Chad boxed him in the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true,” Mike said without pity and turned back to Jared. “And someone like Collins will give you real street cred. Especially if you wanna play the mythical shadow figure.”

The corners of Jared’s lips twitched up in a smile. “Who says that’s what I want?”

“No offense,” Mike said, “but you kinda have a babyface. You have the build, but you need a few years before you have the gravitas that makes people respect you based on your rep alone.”

For a moment, Mike thought he’d gone too far and Jared would throw him out.

But instead, Jared smiled. “I really like you, Mike.”

Relief flooded through him. It made him bold. “Just one problem. What makes you think Collins is going to come work for you?”

Jared raised an eyebrow. “You came, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but Collins is a loner. He freelances whenever he feels like it.”

“Everybody wants something,” Jared said. “You just need to figure out what that is.” Then he turned to Chad. “Fine. We’re going to L.A. for spring break.”

Chad hooted. “Beach parties and kegs!”

Jared rolled his eyes.

“Ah come on, Jay, think of all the desperate pretty boys! You’re gonna have a blast.”

Mike’s eyes widened. That, he hadn’t expected.

Jared turned to him, eyes cold. As cold as when he’d pointed the gun at Dimitri, and Mike had been right. It didn’t feel good at all to be on the receiving end of that stare.

“That going to be a problem?”

Mike just shook his head. “No, man. Not for me.”

“But?”

Mike raised his shoulders. “It’s going to be a problem with respect.”

Jared nodded. “Which is why you’re going to teach me how to knock a guy out with just one punch.”

“Teach him how to break a nose,” Chad said. When Jared shot him a questioning look, Chad shrugged. “Looks the most impressive because it gives you the best blood spatter.”

Mike assessed Jared’s shoulders, his sinewy arms. “You’re gonna have to eat more chicken,” Mike said, “but I don’t think it’s going to be a problem.”

Jared grinned at him, picked up the bottle of whiskey, and poured. “Welcome to the family, Mike.”

The whiskey wasn’t the only thing warming him that night.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come find me on tumblr [here](http://ashtraythief.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [here.](https://twitter.com/ashtraythief) My ask box is always open.


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